Shady 2.0 (Cypher)

[Verse 1: Yelawolf]Put these muthafuckas in a box and I send 'em awayPut em in a gray 'llac and pop the trunkAnd throw em in the back, jack, ha, dig 'em a gravePut a brick inside that Xerox when I print 'em a pageMoving keys I can relate, cause I live in the cageI throw up the A, I take 'em to school, I give them a gradeAn easy E for effort, that's the WWAWhite with an attitude, alphabet soup is on my plateAll I got is Z's they sleeping on me, I can't get 'em awakeI spoon feed 'em a sound, in a room full of deceivers and clownsWho believe in making it rain cause all they see is the cloudsAnd I watch from the couch of the VIP like a potatoWith a bunch of meatheads, like fuck it, I'll just feed 'em a cowPlenty of white boys to pick from this yearBut before you pick a pepper, you better pick up your heaterCause even Peter Piper could pick up a micBut what it's like to pick a fight with me is like putting Nikeson a cheetahBetter speed up, or at least in my case AdidasI'm out this bitch, drinking Sprite by the two-liter

[Verse 2: Joe Budden]Say I'm from the new school, I'mma say check your toneand watch your mouthIf they teaching how to Dougie, I'm condoning dropping outForced to wild, y'all birthed me then gave me upI just perfected being hip hop's foster childNow check it: don't blame y'all for being trash, fans are copping itThe radio's the crime scene, the masses are the hostagesIn my youth I'd throw shots, the fad was dodging itI'm grown: I ain't watching the throne, I'm sabotaging itYou see that 4-headed monster in the storm loomsSnipe 'em from a distance: the scope got a long zoomYou Super Mario thugs is in the wrong roomGotta figure here, you won't get bigger if you on shroomsIf it was left to me, I'd revive what the game be 'boutI woulda took the Wine outta Amy HouseEnough raps from you scrub cats bout cockin' a snub backWayne couldn't teach me how to love thatBut I have this chick from uptown, she my summer bunnyBoth parents broke, but she come from moneyThink my bread is her paper to burnSo I lock her out, and now she doubt David is SternShe's so bad, I make her hit the telly from a taxiThen dead her in the Holiday Inn, learned that from Max BThat's why haters envy, kinda wanna send me llamasI made it right before their eyes like I was BenihanasIs it me? Or is what I'm hearing just pitiful?Airwaves the same, now the stereo's typicalMy skin's thick, so the critics ignoredSo unafraid to die, you'd think I did it beforeThe boy's Rodman with the trash talk, Magic or WaltWith the black ball, way I bounce off the asphalt with cat pawsGlass jaw, Hood of your mask will be the Blackfoot withno passportBody be found in a mansion in one of my trapdoorsIf punks had award you status whores categoreProbably be that of awards between Michael Rappaportand Kenny LatimoreI know hip hop's alive and wellIf it died, you other crews wouldn't survive the smell

[Verse 3: Crooked I]I spot a victim, the plot'll thicken when the clock is tickingI caught him slipping, I gotta give him a shotI hit him with proper spittin', hottest writtens and compositionsSo competition's a contradiction, somebody mention theygot a CrookedHighly fiction we probably different, got Gotti henchmenOpposition, I'll body quick as Bugatti enginesI'm on a mission to get richer, the sickest lyric kickerDigging a ditch for different spitters, weak lyricists getdisfiguredSip liquor, spit like a sick mixtureOf Notorious, Pun and L, get the big picture?The poster, I'll roast yaMy mind so deadly it's just like the beanie is close to a holsterIt's over, control my whole coastal regionLike I'm supposed to flow is going postal evenOpen season, heart close to freezingRuthless as Eazy nigga approach, I'm squeezing, believe meDopest Westcoaster breathingSo most ya hope I'm vegan, nope I'm beefingRappers need to keep it trill, give me a beat to killToo many people still eating sleeping pills, people sleepingon my ether skillsAnd y'all ain't even real, you 'bout to die in this cypherBefore you die, you should do the Jada and leave a Will

[Verse 4: Joell Ortiz]I ain't a rap dude, I'm a dude who rapBefore this, I was moving crackKillers y'all become when y'all rhyme I salute and dapAnd if I blink they'll remove your snapsYou ain't cool, you wack with your foolish actSkinny jeans don't mean your ass shoot, it meansyour booty clapsDon't play like Tyler PerryThis the Slaughterhouse of pain, flow brown, tight and heavyWhen it come to 16's, I'm a fiendSeen in the studio near a needle with a mean leanProbably writing bars to Nas' Thief's Theme gettingmy Yaowa onMan, all these Olajuwons, we the dream teamThis is an all day slaughterThey fiendin' for us to break like Beyonce's waterThe four quarters doing all the eatingAnd y'all gotta know why I made the cut, I'm Puerto RicanOrtiz keep they fire readyAnd tryna put me out's like tryna steal a transvestite from Eddie

[Verse 5: Royce Da 5'9"]I'm do or die dope and you can make the sticker sittingOn the door of that Phantom, your suicide noteHi Rihanna.. is Nicki living with you?Let me know so I can buy binoculars and telescopesHi Rihanna.. I don't need to know you betterYou tell me you love my music again? We go togetherBye Rihanna.. now back to y'all foolsWe rock out like the outside of a guitar schoolThousand dollar frames, I prefer to see the world throughDon't ask me nothing 'bout Budden, I beat my girl tooYou ask me why do I keep her, I say it's cheaper toThat's why I ride around in a Rolls like Wiz Khalifa doRappers I'm your daddy, I tell you straight as thisYou don't kill, but your father will like Jayden SmithI tell you like I tell my Spanish chickYou fly, but I ain't going down on no landing stripSo get your wax on like Daniel SanOr I'mma have to run like De la Hoya in drag when camerascomePoint out the greatest rapper alive I headshot 'emSmack his girl on the butt and buy her some red bottomBring every deceased rapper back to see his wifeWhile I'm cyber-sexing with Jessica Alba via SkypeI?m on my D-boy, Deebo thingSpiritual steelo swing like Cee-Lo GreenGet out the camera with yo B Roll bling, you know yourflow is wackWe cornered the market like a Wal-Mart in a cul-de-sacYeah, this is what two million singles sold, the album is goldLook like without having to sell your soul

[Verse 6: Eminem]Ayo, lyrical miracle spiritual individual criminalSubliminal in your swimming poolYou're about to see peace destroyed, it'll never be restoredWhen I unleash these beastly hordes on your CD storesWanna stop it? You gon' need a priest, at least three swordsA license to ill from the Beastie Boys, three Ouija boardsA squeegee and please be warned, don't ask what thesqueegee's forOr the holy water, acid raps that'll eat these floorsEat a hole in a rhyme book, you see these horns?And as for me you ask when I'm gone, will he be mourned..is puke luke warm, should Casey Anthony do porn?Can that chick fit a new born dead baby inside a frickingshoeboxWith a shoehorn and smother it in chloroform so shecan go get her groove onCan she duct tape and velcro a fetus?Joell, yo, tell Joe I need hisEmpty box from his old shell toed AdidasSo I can put these babies in the fetal position,they're getting elbows to the penisYeah big dealI took some little kids big wheel and spit in his frickinbig kids mealQuit tryna bite me and pinch you wench sit stillDid you just put your six inch heel through my Benzwindsheild?Is it dust we bout to kick up?Can Yelawolf fit a fifth of rum in a big cupBetween in stick shift in his frigging pickupAnd drink like a hick redneck hillbilly will 'til he gets hiccupsFlipping the script up like Mike VickGetting bit in his junk by a Pit, yup I'm a sick pupI'd be a horrible magician, cause I'll fuck a trick upFix your lips up to say something fly, or zip upA B, let's C, you said you were gonna do X-Y-Z'til you fuck around and get dropped like an E when youadd an I-N-GDon't put a K in front of that though, when I MCI'm not the king of the microphone booth,it's more like a phone boothSuperman in this bitch, Kryptonite won't doIt gives me more power, I bump the fat boysAnd eat rat poison, take meteor showersFresh outta the mental hospitalAnd me not flossing a middle finger while I hop in a mosh pit'llBe like Nas doing gospel or R&B, you crazyMe pushing up daisies, that thought is impossibleAs if flashing across the news, Posdnuos was caught witha prostituteWith a huge johnson, boobs and a monstrous tube of lubeAnd a bra, some boots, some panties and a aqua blue MazdaSwallowin' a popsicle, playing tonsil poolSo kill the rumors it ain?t happening, I?mma rap 'til I'm fossil fuel